


Storm

by jonerysbitch



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: After boatsex, F/M, a rather wild ride for everyone, stormy night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 05:05:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14993429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonerysbitch/pseuds/jonerysbitch
Summary: After a stormy night, Davos is worried sick for the King in the North, who turns out was in safe hands all along.





	Storm

Davos has seen his fair shares of storms as a sailor and smuggler, but last night it was horrible. He had too many problems on his mind, a war to win, a Hound asleep on deck, a Baratheon bastard running around and no King in the North. The storm of last night reminded him of the fury of the night Daenerys Stormborn came into this world, but that was another story. The King was missing from his chambers and Davos, being himself, feared the worst as in that Jon Snow perhaps had an accident and fell into the arms of the Drowned God. Jorah Mormont and Gendry came out and placed themselves on a bench near the Hound, still eating and discussing some matter. Tyrion Lannister came later, carrying his usual cup and went to enjoy the view and fresh air.

-Lannister! Have you seen the King?-

-No, I have not. As you see, I have a missing Queen. She’s usually precise as an arrow and wakes me up at the same exact time for council and to make sure I don’t turn lazy, but this morning she didn’t come.-

-Seven hells, what if something happened to my boy? What if he was on deck and he didn’t make it?-

-He’s not an idiot, Sir Davos. He probably fell asleep on accident somewhere else, after all, we recently had to fish him out of the cold grip of death.-

With those words, Jon came out of the bottom part of the ship, yawning and stretching like a cat. He walked over to Davos with a smile and greeted everyone. Davos grabbed him by the shoulders.

-Where were you last night? I was worried sick! You could have died AGAIN in that storm last night!-

Jon still looked dazed. He just grinned like a child who stole a cake from someone. Davos noticed the crimson and purple spots on his neck and the faint scratches visible bellow his unfastened shirt. Davos realized he’s only in his breeches and shirt, as if he lost his armor somewhere. His hair was undone also, making him look younger, hell, his entire face seemed more youthful.

Davos raised his eyebrows, mouth agape. The he patted Jon on the back.

-Lord Tyrion! The King smuggled something last night!-

-What? - asked the Hand, turning around. He immediately saw Jon’s state, took a large sip of his glass and put it down.

-And what did His Grace smuggle?-

-Sit down, boy! - Jon sat down between the men and leaned on the wooden wall.

They sat in silence for a minute, before Davos lost his patience.

-What happened last night? Did the wind blow you off deck?-

-I don’t know about you, but I had a lovely evening.-

-And shall I ask where you spent it? Or between what did you spend it?-

-All I have to say I feel like a new man.-

Jorah and Gendry walked over to see why the three men were excited. Tyrion opened the bottle of wine with a pop and poured himself a glass.

-What happened to you, Jon?-

-Many things!-

-Many things? - asked Jorah.

-This is the only cup I have, so you have to share like in the army.-

Jon took a sip out of the bottle and handed it to Davos.

-So, my King, can you tell me what you were doing?-

-Nothing of great importance, I suppose? It’s not smart to you to be worn out during this time. – Said Jorah looking genuinely concerned.

Gendry finally caught on, raising his eyebrows. He took the bottle from Davos and sipped.

-I suppose congratulations are in order?-

Tyrion noticed the small tear in Jon’s shirt.

-Seems like you ripped your shirt, it will need mending. Unfortunately, the only woman on the ship is our Queen and she will stick a needle in your eye if you ask her.-

Jon rolled his eyes.

-You can poke me all you want, Lannister, but nothing can ruin my mood now. Nothing. –

-And where’s the Queen? - asked Jorah, now in denial.

With his words, Daenerys Targaryen came out from below deck. Her hair was in a simple braid, she wore a dress and a scarf over her shoulders. She looked very pleased and happy this morning.

-My Queen. –

They all greeted her, making space for her. The Hound suddenly snored loudly, forcing everyone to look at him. Jon made space for her and gave her a hand, guiding her to sit down next to her new lover. She bit her lip while looking at him, eyes radiating desire. He smirked and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his thighs. The situation was getting out of hand now.

Jorah Mormont finally caught up and went pale. Gendry’s grin grew even wider and he and Davos exchanged suggestive looks.

-How are you today, my Queen?-

-Wonderful! And you, Gendry?-

-I had a good night sleep, although there was a nasty storm last night.-

-Ah yes, there was! But it didn’t disturb anyone, didn’t it?-

Everyone nodded. The Hound finally wake up and walked over to the group to see what is going on.

-Are we there yet?—

-No, we have at least a month, Clegane. Did you hear the storm last night?-

-A little. But some fuckers we’re making noise last night.-

-Where did you fall asleep, Clegane?-

-In the hallway near the main chambers, why?-

Tyrion and Davos laughed, pointing their gazes to the two royal lovers. The Hound rolled his eyes.

-Fucking disgusting.-

Daenerys looked over at Jon.

-The King and I have some matters about our alliance to discuss. Shall we?-

He smiled like a hungry wolf and followed her to the door. Jon jokingly patted her on the butt, pushing her forward. The Queen turned around and playfully pushed his shoulder, giggling. He responded by picking her up and putting her over his shoulder. The group laughed out loud, even the Hound. Jorah Mormont sat down, putting his head between his hands, looking desolate. Tyrion patted his back.

-There, there, Sir Jorah. You don’t want to join the Drowned God, won’t you?-


End file.
